When I first met Peevey, she walked wide circles around me. She was like that with everyone except Sue. I pretended not to notice and tried not to let Peevey catch me looking at her. I’ve never seen a dog so attached to a person as Peevey was to Sue.
We used to walk Peevey up to the park and she didn’t even need a leash. She would listen and watch for Sue’s commands and she would obey. Sometimes she would run up ahead of us to the end of the block and then lay down and wait for Sue to tell her it was okay to cross the street.
Peevey would let me throw balls to her. That was acceptable to her, but nothing more. Peevey didn’t fully accept me until one day we drove up to the mountains with her. Sue stopped to go into a store and I stayed back by the car with Peevey. Peevey was in the back seat and she let me pet her. Then I told her in her ear that I thought she was a pretty nice dog. After that, she was okay with me.
Over the next couple of years, I grew to love Peevey, too. Peevey was part of Sue and Sue was part of Peevey. It was like a whole package. I loved playing ball with her. She was so good at it. She ignored the other dogs and cats. She didn’t have any use for them. When we went to bed, Peevey would jump up and plop down with us.
When Peevey left, she left a giant hole in Sue’s heart, I know. She left a big hole in mine, too. But I think if she were here and if she could talk, she would say that Sue gave her the best life a dog could ever want.
